


By My Eyes

by Cocoa_N_Donuts



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: F/F, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-23
Updated: 2020-02-23
Packaged: 2021-02-28 02:21:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,138
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22856140
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cocoa_N_Donuts/pseuds/Cocoa_N_Donuts
Summary: Tumblr Prompt: Hey! If you could do this prompt it would be awesome!! Pre-relationship or still secret. Pre WS (or post I mean, do whatever feels right). Nat comes back from very hard mission for Fury. Can't wait so straight to Maria on the helicarier desk and bear-hug her. Queue surprised Maria that goes along with it / or comforting Maria (depending on relationship status) +reactions of peopleOr: Natasha sees a Fake Maria getting shot and seeks comfort from the Real Maria.
Relationships: Maria Hill/Natasha Romanov
Comments: 7
Kudos: 228





	By My Eyes

**Author's Note:**

> Don't worry, this is just me trying to do some Tumblr/AO3 fic housekeeping! I'm reposting it on here with my permission!

“You don’t think we called you here alone, did you, Natalia? You mustn’t think we are that stupid. It might suggest that we’ve… lost our touch. Gotten softer.” The Madame snaps her fingers, and her underlings begin tapping on their screens until a deadly familiar voice punctuates the air and runs Natasha’s blood cold.

“You don’t think we’d bring you here without inviting your wife, now do you, Natalia?”

A shiver of dread and fear runs down Natasha’s spine.

_They know. They know about us. They’ve got Maria, they’re probably torturing her right now as we speak, and it’s all because I married her._

A large screen in front of her pops to life with a live video feed of Maria, bound and chained to a wall, where two masked Red Room agents were flanking her.

It was Maria, screaming within an inch of her life as the sound of electricity crackles and courses through her body. Natasha tenses, instinctively trying to save her wife from ever making that sound ever again.

The irrational part of her mind was in absolute chaos, seeing Maria bound and tortured, her mind constantly repeating: _they have Maria. They captured her because I’m in love with her, because she’s my wife._

…Even as her rational mind knew that Maria was too proud and stubborn to ever let out a peep even during torture. This wasn’t Maria.

But a small voice in her head cries, what if _it is_?

“Agent Romanoff.” Fury’s voice cuts through her internal monologue, “Stay on target. Director Hill is right here on the Helicarrier with us.”

“How do I know you’re not playing me for a fool?” Natasha says to the both of them.

“You can very well test the theory,” The Madame says, “But you’re a smart girl, and I don’t have to tell you what will come of it.”

“We’re patching Agent Hill through. Standby.”

In that eternity where Natasha waited, pretended to consider the Madame’s words, the Madame smiles, “How much do you think the Assistant Director of SHIELD can take? 45 volts of electricity? A bullet into an artery? A well placed blow to her neck?”

As she says that, the sound of crackling electricity increases alongside Maria’s screams.

“Hand the list of Red Room associates over, and Assistant Director Hill will be just fine, Natalia.”

Natasha hands over an empty thumbdrive over slowly. The Madame takes it, smiles, and says “Shoot her,” in Russian.

And over on the screen, Natasha watches as Maria being killed right in front of her eyes.

Natasha’s blood freezes, eyes blown wide.

“You should know that I don’t play games, Natalia. This had always been the lesson that you’ve struggled with: Love is for children.”

Natasha stood in horrific shock at the grisly sight of Maria’s face, jaw slack, eyes wide and unseeing.

“Natasha? What’s going on? Are you okay?” Maria’s cool, but confused voice over her little earpiece was a balm over Natasha’s pained, frantic soul. “Do you need back up? Fury refuses to tell me anything,” Maria’s own concern for her was genuine and unmistakable.

And it clicks. Maria’s screams in the Red Room were a product of a voice changer on a stranger.

“You’re safe.” Natasha breathes.

Maria doesn’t miss a beat, “Yes, myshka, the black bringer of chaos is home, and enjoying warm milk.”

And the warm knowledge of floods through Natasha that this was Maria, not an impostor. And she wasn’t captured, was of sound mind, and entirely fine.

“I see the game is up. Treat this as a warning, Natalia. Love is weakne—“

Natasha shoots her between the eyes, before offing the two other Red Room agents in rapid succession.

The fury boils within her, and she approaches the bodies, makes sure that they were genuine, and then proceeds to secure the payload.

When she find the room where that fake “Maria” was lying, dead, the tremble in her hands and core was palpable.

She finds the photostatic veil and pulls it from a random brunette’s face. Then, and only then, does she turn and stride out of the room, of the facility, without a glance back.

* * *

Fury knows better than to request for a debrief after what Natasha had just been through. Instead, he only points towards the Helicarrier’s bridge, and Natasha drops the flash drive she got from the Red Room without pausing a beat in her tracks.

The bridge was a hurricane of activity, with Maria at the eye of it. Ignoring the chaos of it all, Natasha strides past all agents scurrying about. Straight up to Maria, still commanding the ship at a rapid pace.

Natasha stands in front of her wife, examining Maria’s features— her chiseled jaw, tanned skin, her short cropped hair and sharp eyes— just taking time to soak her spouse’s presence in. Natasha cups a hand on Maria’s face, searching for any signs of a photostatic veil.

Outwardly, Maria remains unfazed, almost ignoring Natasha’s presence as she runs the ship. But the slight nuzzle into Natasha’s hand, the slight softening of the area around the brunette’s eyes tells Natasha everything she needs to know: this is Maria, alive, vibrant, and still commanding.

Tears start welling up in Natasha’s eyes at the memory of watching “Maria” get shot. The redhead winds her arms around Maria wordlessly, pressing her face into Maria’s neck, her lips onto Maria’s pulse.

Still barking orders to the entire crew, without acknowledging Natasha’s presence, Maria rests her chin atop Natasha’s red hair, one hand scratching at the soft hairs on Natasha’s nape while the other taps at a screen next to her without pause.

Maria was a steady presence: strong, tall, capable. And in that moment, Natasha decided, love might be weakness, love might be for children. But Maria? Maria was her strength. Maria was for her.

With the steady thrum of Maria’s heart upon her lips, Natasha stays there, almost unmoving, until Maria’s shift was up.

If Maria felt the drip of tears on her neck, or the curious gazes of people on the bridge, she said nothing, only gently leading Natasha to her quarters when she was done.

* * *

“So… a little birdie told me what happened on the bridge a few days ago,” Barton sits beside Maria and Natasha at dinner one day.

“Barton.” Maria deadpanned a greeting.

“I heard it was very romantic,” Clint continued, “ everyone on the bridge saw. Does this mean you’re taking a new step in your marri—“

“Birdbrain,” Natasha warned, “enough.”

“Oh come on, Tasha! I’m your best friend! You know I need the de—“

Before Barton could finish, Natasha slams a butter knife a hair’s breadth from Clint’s fingers.

“Okay,” Barton squeaked, “Sensitive topic. Got it.”

And they ate in personable silence, only Clint making the occasional comment about the most mundane issues.

**Author's Note:**

> *gasp* that is mahogany!


End file.
